


Faim

by gracerene, shiftylinguini



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Established Relationship, First Time, Grinding, HP Next Gen Fest 2020, Harry Potter Next Generation, Hotel Sex, M/M, Paris (City), Rimming, Sexual Experimentation, Sexual Inexperience, Shower Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-19
Updated: 2020-11-19
Packaged: 2021-03-08 23:42:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,650
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27445060
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gracerene/pseuds/gracerene, https://archiveofourown.org/users/shiftylinguini/pseuds/shiftylinguini
Summary: "So, this is the city of love!" Scorpius declared, adjusting the straps on his backpack.Albus wrinkled his nose. "City of pigeons, more like," he corrected, stepping around another fat, grey bird.Or: Scorbus go to France.
Relationships: Scorpius Malfoy/Albus Severus Potter
Comments: 33
Kudos: 212
Collections: Next Gen Fest 2020





	Faim

**Author's Note:**

> **shiftylinguini** : Thank you to the mods for being handsome and amazing and letting me submit this self-indulgent little thing, and HUGE thank you to my writing partner for being supportive and talented and helping me stumble over the finish line! You are solid gold <3.  
>  **gracerene** : Thanks so much to my talented writing partner for letting me play around in their world, and to the mods for hosting this fest!

*

"So, this is the city of love!" Scorpius declared, adjusting the straps on his backpack.

Albus wrinkled his nose. "City of pigeons, more like," he corrected, stepping around another fat, grey bird. It fluttered its wings before deciding not to take flight and just keep waddling in front of them at the same carefree pace. Apparently, being trodden on was part of its daily goals. Either that, or it was just ignoring Albus. Albus frowned at it. The pigeon pecked at the pavement. A stalemate was reached. 

"They’re fascinating, aren’t they?" Scorpius dropped another corner of his pastry on the ground, watching the birds gather around him. 

"Would you stop bloody doing that?" Albus grumbled. "There are pigeons everywhere now, and they're gonna keep following you. And everyone’s glaring at us. _And_ that chocolatine thingy was expensive. Cost, like, a billion French pounds." Albus waved his hand expansively in order to convey all the money he imagined the pastry had cost. 

Scorpius laughed, rolling his eyes. "French pounds, my arse" he muttered. 

Albus perked up. "I'll pound your ar―" 

"―Euros," Scorpius interrupted. "Is what you mean to say."

"Oh, do I?" Albus replied, just to be facetious. 

"Yes, idiot. And it's _pain au chocolat_ ," Scorpius corrected, waving his pastry to cement his point. 

Albus frowned. "Bill said they were called chocolatines."

"Yeah, but then your Aunt Fleur said that was wrong." Scorpius crumpled up his paper pastry bag with the air of finality possessed only by someone who was sure they'd won the argument. "Remember?" Scorpius threw the bag at Albus's head, cheeky sod. "And then they had a row that was half in English and half in French, and Dominique poured us all some more brandy and said we should just order a pain au raisin instead. So!" Scorpius smiled, looking up from his small flock of chubby birds. He propped his hands on his hips, a king of pigeons surveying his kingdom. "Want a coffee?"

Albus sighed, still drowsy from the train ride here. The sun was warm on his back, and the streets of the 6th arrondissement were full of people, but not enough to overwhelm him. A good balance.

"Yeah, I could do coffee."

"Super!" Scorpius chirped, purposely bad French accent dialled up to eleven. He linked his arm with Albus’s. "Allons au café!"

"Oh god, _don't_ ," Albus groaned, dragging the word out to truly gargantuan proportions, and then ruining it by laughing. 

"Nope, shan't." Scorpius slung his arm around Albus's shoulders, steering them around the pigeons and litter and cigarette butts scattering the ground. "I'm going to speak my shit French to everyone and get us banned." 

Albus laughed again, proper and loud. "Banned from all of France?" 

"And French speaking Canada, oui." Scorpius adjusted his sunglasses, distracted as he read the signs on the rows of small cafés. "Oh, let's go here, I’ve read about this place." Scorpius dragged Albus with him towards the small café with genuine excitement. 

"In a tourist book?" 

"No," Scorpius scoffed, tilting his sunglasses down with thumb and forefinger so he could stare imperiously over the top of them. "I Googled it on the internets," he finished with crisp and perfect sarcasm. 

"Oh, get you." Albus laughed. "Very modern of you." 

Scorpius nodded. "I'm a modern wizard."

"Not me," Albus said pleasantly. "I was planning to just embrace my idiot tourist status, actually. Especially as we appear to be about to have a lovely cup of coffee at"—Albus squinted at the cafe’s signage—" _Les Deux Magots_ …wait, maggots? Nice!"

Scorpius, smiling and nodding at the maitre'd who'd come over to seat them, failed to stifle a laugh that turned into a snort, and earned them a filthy look from the head waiter. 

Albus grinned, following the man inside and feeling like this short sojourn to Paris was already worth it.

*

"What?" Scorpius asked, moments later as he dropped down into his seat. He dropped his backpack onto the ground soon after, sighing with relief as he rolled his shoulders.

"What what?" Albus replied, divesting himself of his own heavy load and wondering if he'd accidentally packed fifty rocks, given how sore his back was right now. 

"You were staring at me. Eyeballing me." Scorpius propped his sunnies on the table then massaged his left shoulder, moving up towards his neck. "Thought maybe I was all sunburnt and scruffy and you were ashamed to be seen with me," he joked. 

"Oh, right." Albus poured himself some water. "You look nice, that’s all. I like that top." He poured a glass of water for Scorpius too. 

"Oh." Scorpius, momentarily blindsided by the compliment, paused in his almost yoga-like rotating of his shoulder and neck. "Um. Thanks." He plucked at his t-shirt with long fingers, a little bit awkward and a little bit flushed. "It's new." 

"Mm." Albus sipped his water and nodded. "Thought it might be. Suits you." 

Scorpius flushed harder. "It's just a black top," he countered.

"It's just a compliment," Albus volleyed back, smiling and refusing to let Scorpius bat the nice comment back at him. 

It wasn't that Albus didn't compliment him often, just that Scorpius wasn’t great at taking them. Like, pathologically unable to. Albus was thus determined to compliment him at every opportunity. Scorpius's self-confidence wasn't low but there did appear to be a dent there when it came to being told he was fit. Objectively, Scorpius knew there was nothing wrong with him, that much Albus knew. He just also knew Scorpius didn't really get why people fancied him, or hit on him at parties, or got upset when he broke up with them (which, honestly, was a whole different kettle of self-worth). He just didn't see himself as anything worth getting that excited about, which made Albus (as a person who was perpetually excited by the fact that Scorpius existed, and had been since they'd met)…kind of want to scream. And then make Scorpius a pot of tea. 

Albus knew that changing Scorpius's perception of himself and his inherent likeability wasn't his business, or in his ability (that responsibility, and privilege, was all Scorpius's, lucky him). He could dole out the compliments, though, and not let Scorpius get away with deftly sending them back. Albus was mad good at that. 

Plus, getting to tell Scorpius he was lovely was actually kind of massively great for _Albus's_ self-esteem, so. Two birds, one stone. Albus really was a Slytherin. 

They’d only been together a little while, six months-ish, and being able to openly compliment Scorpius was just…great. Like, endorphin-inducing-rush kind of great. Almost as exciting as being able to kiss Scorpius whenever he liked. Well, _almost_ whenever he liked. It was still fucking impossible to get a free moment with Scorpius these days. It had been borderline easier to spend time alone together when they’d still been at school, but now that their N.E.W.T.s were over they found they had more free time and yet no opportunities to enjoy it together. There was always a parent, a friend, a sibling popping up out of the woodwork to cockblock them at every turn. 

That’s why they’d bunked off on holiday to gay Paris in the middle of summer―to eat loads, shag in a hotel, and avoid their entire families for at least a week. Heaven. 

"And"—Albus leaned over and softly touched Scorpius's fingers as they lay against the wooden tabletop—"I am also ashamed to be seen with you," he finished sweetly, popping the moment between them with satisfying immaturity.

"Oh, piss off." Scorpius laughed, drawing his hand back. Albus suspected the arrival of the waiter to take their order was the only thing that saved him from a sugar sachet to the head. 

"So, seeing as we’re in the city of love," Scorpius started once the waiter had departed, unfolding his napkin, and then folding it over again. 

"Yes?" Albus prompted.

"We should probably do something romantic." Scorpius grinned, wide and happy and not a little bit devious. 

"Err." Albus thought for a moment. "I mean yes, totally!" He agreed. His mind raced as he tried to think of something. It wasn't that he and Scorpius weren't very romantic, they just…didn't really do that kind of thing. Generally, it all seemed a bit naff and contrived to Albus. A walk along the Seine might work though, or a candlelit dinner on the terrace of a fancy restaurant? That might be romantic. And, there would be food. 

"Have you heard of rimming?" 

Albus’s mind abruptly stopped racing, clattering to a standstill in time with the rattle of his spoon as he dropped it onto his plate. 

"Have I what?" he muttered, his face flushing a deep red. 

"Rimming," Scorpius repeated blithely. "It’s when someone puts their mouth―"

"I know what it is!" Albus looked from left to right, pushing his hair away from his suddenly too-hot forehead. He didn't think anyone was listening but he leant forwards anyway, lowering his voice to a scandalised whisper. "Of course I know what it is, Jesus. Just. Seriously?"

Scorpius leaned forwards, too. "I thought it would be fun," he answered happily, eyes crinkling playfully and cheeks decidedly unflushed. Albus on the other was as red as a fucking strawberry. 

It never ceased to wrongfoot Albus, that Scorpius could say these sorts of things without even a hint of embarrassment or shame. It seemed his blind enthusiasm for all things he enjoyed easily translated to the bedroom. Scorpius’s determination to find out what they both liked and to then go at it with the same fervour he applied to his academic pursuits had resulted in some already pretty great sex, but they had definitely not done anything like _that_. Or, Albus hadn't; Scorpius had definitely slept with more people than Albus had, and that was fine. Great, even (at least one of them knew what they were doing). Albus knew all the theoretical basics of sex, too. He was a teenager, he had the internet, and he was mostly not a total idiot. He was keen to try new stuff. Keen in a worryingly terrified kind of way, but keen all the same. 

He was just also rather convinced he was going to be, y’know, possibly terrible at most of it. He didn't know, like, how to put a month on a bum and have it be anything other than awkward. Knowing him, he'd panic and blow a raspberry and then have to escape out the window and move to Romania, never to be seen again. 

"Al. You've gone all quiet and blotchy," Scorpius said, not unkindly. 

Albus swallowed, meeting Scorpius’s bright eyes. Scorpius looked nice, a little flushed from the sun and his hair clean and brushed back. Albus’s palms were beginning to sweat a bit. What did an arse even taste like? Like an arse, obviously, but presumably okay enough? James had actually given Albus some banana flavoured lube once, as a gag gift. And also because he seemed to have taken Albus’s sort-of virginity on board as his own personal project back then and kept giving him lube, and little snippets of advice (although so far, the advice had just been to not shag in a bathtub, or a pool, or a spa, or any kind of body of water, especially not one with a giant magical squid in it). The lube was a nice gesture, at least. Albus really did like bananas. And banana lollypops. Knowing that about Albus was actually quite nice of James, in a sort of sweet but creepy way, and maybe if he used that, you know, then everything would taste nice and sweet and fruity, and less like an arse, and oh god, how long had he been sitting here silently, thinking about banana-flavoured bums and not replying to Scorpius?

"So you…want me to do that"—Albus cleared his suddenly dry throat—"to you?" Albus cringed as his voice ended on a squeak. 

"Oh." Scorpius's eyes widened. "Shit, no. Well, I mean no, if you want to we can! I was sort of thinking, um, the other way around?" Scorpius made a vague turning gesture with his index finger. 

Albus’s throat was dry still, but for entirely different reasons now. He opened his mouth, trying to speak, but shut it again, as an unexpected and overwhelming _relief_ flooded through him. The idea of Scorpius doing that to him didn’t make him feel nervous. It was making his stomach flip in an entirely different way, and he crossed one leg over the other, suddenly wishing they weren't having this conversation somewhere quite so public. 

Scorpius’s spoon chinked lightly as he laid it down on his small saucer. "Fuck, sorry," he mumbled, frowning in concern at Albus’s red cheeks. "I embarrassed you," he said self-consciously. "This is awkward."

"No, no," Albus hurried to answer, but Scorpius was already sitting back further in his chair, worrying at his lower lip with his teeth. 

"We don’t have to, really, it was just an idea, and I thought since…" Scorpius tucked his hair behind his ear, his cheeks _now_ flushing with embarrassment at having perceived that he had crossed a line with Albus. He lowered his voice. "Since you liked that other thing I did with my mouth, but maybe this is too―" 

"No, I did like that!" Albus interrupted, slightly too loud in contrast to Scorpius’s low mumble. He leant his elbows on the table, looking apologetically at the slightly elderly couple drinking cognac to his right. Luckily, they were completely ignoring them. 

"I did like that," he continued at a more reasonable volume. "And I like the sound of, um, the other thing too." He could feel his cheeks getting hotter. His blush had graduated from strawberry to pomegranate. 

Scorpius didn't look convinced. "I made you uncomfortable though, Al."

"No, not"—Albus shifted in his chair—"well, not _bad_ uncomfortable."

Scorpius huffed a laugh. "There’s good uncomfortable?"

"Yes." Albus laughed, shaking his hair out of his eyes. "Definitely." He could feel his face returning to its normal colour, and he was more than a little relieved at the reprieve from being a lobster. "Like that time at Uncle Ron’s birthday party, when we were making out upstairs and it all got a little bit out of control, and then we had to go back downstairs and act normal when we were both, um, in a slight state."

"Ohhh." Scorpius took a small sip of his coffee, settling it back down on the saucer directly in the centre. He sat back and folded his arms. "Kinky, Al."

Albus grinned as he licked his spoon, composure slightly recovered. Scorpius looked up at him searchingly through his fringe. "So, this is okay then? You're keen?"

Albus rested his cheek in his hand, smiling down at his coffee before taking a small sip. It didn't taste very nice, but he found he didn’t mind in the slightest.

"Mmm, yep." He nudged his foot against Scorpius’s own, then did it again until Scorpius smiled at him, the embarrassment leaving his face. "I think I’d like to try it."

Scorpius’s smile widened. "Wicked."

*

The rest of the day was lovely. Albus was sure it was, even though he managed to pay attention to exactly none of it.

After their maggotty café break, they managed to navigate the metro system in order to visit the Louvre, which was beautiful. At least, Albus felt obliged to find it beautiful, when really he’d mostly been staring at Scorpius’s mouth while Scorpius avidly read the different placards about the works of art. He had a habit of mouthing the words when he was really interested in something, which Albus suspected Scorpius didn’t even know he did. He didn’t want to tell him in case he became self-conscious and stopped, and then Albus wouldn’t be able to watch Scorpius from under his fringe as he read with rapt attention about the artist who had painted, Albus was sure, what must be 60th painting of sheep on a hill which they’d seen that afternoon. He was rubbish at appreciating Muggle art; the sheep weren’t even moving. It was all shit.

When they’d moved on to the Greco-Roman inspired sculptures, and those of the Renaissance, things had only gotten worse for Albus. Statue upon statue of beautiful bodies were displayed across the room, lithe alabaster limbs and pert sculpted rears, and really, by the time they’d reached Michelangelo’s David, Albus had needed a bit of a sit-down. His mind kept persistently wandering back to what Scorpius had suggested, his cheeks growing hot at the thought of it and his jeans a little on the too-tight side. 

"It’s really impressive, isn’t it?" Scorpius said reverently, joining Albus as he sat against a far wall on a small burgundy-cushioned stool. "So many centuries of art, of Muggle history, in the one building. I can see why it would be overwhelming." He touched Albus’s knee briefly, completely misreading Albus’s slightly unfocused expression and his need to have a quiet moment. "You wait ‘til we visit Versailles, Al, I think you’ll be even _more_ blown away―"

"Have you done it before?" Albus blurted, still staring at Scorpius’s mouth. Scorpius frowned at him. 

"You mean been here before? Yeah, when I was a kid. Made jokes about all the ancients being perverts, got told off by Dad for being uncultured while he tried not to laugh. Didn’t we talk about that on the―"

"No, not that." Albus turned, facing Scorpius. Their knees brushed together. "I mean the thing, the…"

"Oh." Scorpius’s eyes widened, first in surprise, then in a pleased sort of pride. "The arse-eating, right." 

" _Scorp_!" 

"What." Scorpius grinned, absolutely aware that Albus's face was doing it's beetroot impression again. "And yeah. I have. Like, not heaps though. I, uh"—Scorpius cleared his throat—"sort of have a book on this kind of stuff?"

"What?"

"A book. A sex book. And not one you would find in the Hogwarts Library, either," he said slyly, clearly impressed with his own resourcefulness. "I had to owl-order it."

"You owl-ordered _porn_?" Albus knew he must look ridiculous, with his eyes wide and his mouth half open. 

"A _manual_ ," Scorpius shot back. He waved the museum guide in his hand. "Like this, only not for a museum, for―"

"Sticking your tongue up someone’s bum?" Albus replied, still faintly shocked. 

"Yes," Scorpius raised his chin, although he did look a little pink around the ears. "And other things. I mean, I’m not going to go into that kind of situation unprepared, am I?" he said earnestly. "Sex is fun but it’s also, like, gross and confusing, so it makes sense to find a book on it, to find people more informed, so I don’t…" Scorpius swallowed, looking back out at the room. He fiddled with a corner of his Louvre guide. "I dunno. Whatever."

He flicked a self-conscious look at Albus, the one that said _please don’t laugh at me right now_ , then returned to ripping slightly at a corner of his guide book. Albus was silent as he processed what Scorpius had said, as he let that little flutter of warmth in his belly grow. He didn’t know why, but he liked the idea of Scorpius nervously ordering and then scouring the pages of a sex guide, trying to make sure he knew what he was doing before he did it. It was such a completely Scorpius way to approach something, such a Scorpius way to try and settle his nerves, that Albus felt comforted by it. He was absolutely pants at communicating that kind of thing though, so he kissed Scorpius instead of trying to talk. That was a very _Albus_ approach to dealing with complex emotions, he had to admit. 

The kiss wasn’t long, or passionate, although Albus wanted it to be. He felt deeply scandalous, doing this in front of the statues and the paintings. He was glad, at least, that they were Muggle and wouldn't be looking back at him as he deepened the kiss. He felt Scorpius sigh into it before Albus quickly pulled back. 

"Can we go back to our hotel room?" Albus whispered against Scorpius’s lips. "I can’t neck in front of all this art." 

Scorpius huffed a soft laugh, then nodded. 

They were in such a hurry Scorpius didn’t even complain when they left without looking at the giftshop.

*

" _Pardon_. Sorry, pardon," Albus mumbled for what felt like the eighty-millionth time as they made their way out of the metro station and through the throngs of people leaving work for the day. He felt like a salmon swimming upstream as they eventually emerged onto the next platform, and he was eternally thankful that Scorpius had been to Paris before, because Albus was utterly lost in the complex tunnels, stairs and turns of the metro system.

"It’s not that hard, really," Scorpius said as they both walked quickly. "The city is broken up into twenty arrondissements, and the river runs between the two banks, Droite and Gauche, and…" Scorpius stopped speaking at Albus’s blank look. "You’ll figure it out quickly enough. Just if you get lost, remember our hotel is near the Champs-Elysées." Scorpius grinned over his shoulder, hiking the straps of his backpack up a little higher. "Like the song." 

Albus slipped his fingers into Scorpius’s hand and pulled it away from his bag strap. "I’ll just follow you, if that’s all the same," he said softly, "and you can try not to lose me." 

"‘Course, love." Scorpius beamed at him, squeezing his fingers tightly and leading the way. 

It didn’t take as long as Albus had thought to get back to their hotel, which was fabulously posh and in which Albus felt fabulously out of place in his ratty trainers and faded top. It was a Muggle hotel, which Scorpius thought would add a bit of charm to their impromptu trip. It was also a much better way of keeping off of their parents’ radar. Not that they were expecting an entourage of Malfoys and Potters to rock up at their doorstep if they’d booked a suite at the _Wizarding Continental_ , but Albus was also…slightly suspicious that might happen. Scorpius’s dad did seem to have a lot of contacts. 

The downside, though, was that they couldn’t Apparate there and had to instead rely on walking and Muggle modes of travel. It was lovely, at first, but Albus’s legs were tired now, his shoulder aching from lugging his backpack with him around the city all day. 

They stepped through the doors and into the lifts taking them to the eleventh floor. 

"Room three," Scorpius mumbled to himself, pulling out the key card as the elevator ascended. "Do you remember how to use this?" he asked, turning the small red keycard to Albus. 

"Think you just swipe it?" Albus took it from Scorpius, turning it in his hands. "I think it opens the door when you swipe, a little bit like magic―" He stopped when he raised his head to find Scorpius looking at him, his eyes intense and fond. 

"This was a nice idea." Scorpius tucked his hair behind his ears with both hands, one side and then the next. "The holiday, suggesting we go away," he clarified, stepping closer and crowding Albus into the corner of the lift. Albus smiled at him, looking over Scorpius’s shoulder into the mirrored walls of the lift as myriad Albus’s slipped a hand around equally as many Scorpius’s waists. 

"Yeah," Albus mumbled, kissing the corner of Scorpius’s mouth. "I’m, uh." He leaned back against the wall of the lift, his backpack cushioning him and Scorpius’s thighs pressed against his own. "I'm looking forward to, um, doing that thing you mentioned," he managed to get out around the lump of embarrassment in his throat. He was definitely keen for bum licking, he just was not ever going to be able to say it without turning puce.

Scorpius hummed, kissing his jaw lightly, and then again, open-mouthed. "I think it’ll be really fun," he said in a low tone, lips moving against Albus’s skin, over the light stubble at his jaw. Albus canted his hips slightly, feeling his cock thicken in his trousers as― 

_Ding_. 

"Shit," Albus muttered as Scorpius straightened the straps of his backpack, then discreetly adjusted his jeans. The lift doors slid open. 

"This is our floor, I think." Scorpius cleared his throat and Albus nodded, both of them slinking out into the hallway and past an elegant middle-aged couple who did not look thrilled with their state of disarray. 

"We’re getting quite adept at good uncomfortable, aren’t we?" Albus mumbled as Scorpius started to giggle. 

Scorpius shook his head, still smiling. "I’m really glad we didn’t stay at that hotel Dad suggested."

"Or the one my nan said we should book," Albus agreed vehemently as he marched his tired legs up the seemingly endless hallway. "Can you imagine if we’d been caught snogging in a lift at _Les Gillyweeds Gentiles_? The _Prophet_ would have a fucking field day," he griped.

"A Parisian Scandal." Scorpius moved his hands as he were framing a headline, and Albus scoffed, nodding. 

"A Teenage Affair in Paris."

"An intimate and _elevated_ moment caught between the scions of two illustrious wizarding families." Scorpius stopped at door number three, leaning against the wall and regarding Albus sombrely. "Exclusive to the _Daily Prophet_ , and then of course the ten other papers who pull something out of their arse to go along with it," he added wryly. 

Albus laughed, waving the key card around in what he hoped was the correct way. "We’re here because we've eloped, or something," he joked."Or one of us is pregnant."

Scorpius nodded sagely. "Both of us, probably."

Albus snorted a laugh, grinning over at Scorpius. "Our families don’t approve?"

"They approve too much."

"Either way, there’ll be a quote from a friend of the family, who is actually my brother’s neighbour's cat’s best friend, and―aha!"

 _Click._

They both cheered as the door clicked open, Albus finally having figured out the correct way to swipe the little plastic card. 

"After you." He waved Scorpius through the door. Scorpius went ahead of him, turning to bow slightly in thanks, before throwing his backpack onto a corner. He fell facedown onto the bed, legs dangling off of it. 

"I am knackered," he said into the bedspread, each word muffled by expensive duvet. Albus laughed, shedding his own backpack and then toeing off his trainers. He lifted Scorpius’s legs, tipping him fully onto the bed. 

"Me too," Albus declared as he crawled on alongside him, dropping down heavily into the plush pillow. He looked up at the high canopied bed, at the intricate carvings along the fine mahogany frame. "This place," Albus announced, peeling off his gross socks, "is fucking fancy." 

Scorpius laughed, pulling off one shoe and then the other. "It is a bit, isn't it?" He lay back down on his back, head at the end of the bed, and feet near Albus's head. "You want first shower?" he offered, gripping one of Albus’s ankles lightly. 

"Why, do I smell?" Albus asked, lifting his other leg and rotating his slightly sore ankle, then massaging his calf. It was a genuine question; he felt like he probably smelled. 

"Not more than usual," Scorpius huffed a laugh as Albus threw his dirty sock at him, quickly followed by his _other_ dirty sock, for good measure. "It’s more, um"Scorpius leaned up on one elbow— "if you want to do that stuff we planned, then it might. You know." He tilted his head, shrugging one shoulder. Albus swallowed, starting to go red again. 

"Oh, right, of course." Scorpius kissed Albus’s ankle, then squeezed it comfortingly as Albus stilled, feeling slightly mortified. "Bloody hell," he muttered, sitting up, his stomach doing all manner of strange flips, some excited, some nervous. He was pleased to note that most of them felt good, even if some of the butterflies in his belly appeared to be covering their faces and dying of embarrassment. 

"Um, so is there, like." Albus hopped off the bed, bare feet sinking into the plush carpeted floor. "Is there, like, something specific I should _do_." His voice dropped down a whisper. He felt more than a little bit stupid about asking Scorpius if there was a particular routine he should follow regarding cleaning his arse for this. 

"Oh, not exactly." Scorpius cleared his throat, sitting up too. He rested his elbows on his knees. "There’s a spell we can use." He smiled tentatively. "I've used it before, and it's not awful or anything. It is a little, well." He wrinkled his nose as he searched for the word. "Intimate?"

"Oh god." Albus swallowed, adjusting his weight from foot to foot. "A spell for arses." He waved his hand, half behind himself, half at the fancy bedside table near their large king size bed. Scorpius nodded, then crawled over to sit on his heels in front of Albus. 

"We really don't have to do this, Al," he said honestly. "Not if it’s making you feel weird." He sat up on his knees. "I only wanna do it if it will be fun for you." He bit his lip, looking up at Albus, and Albus chewed his own lip in response. 

"I think it’ll be fun," he said slowly, stepping closer and wrapping one arm, and then the next, around Scorpius’s shoulders. "I just feel kinda weird about doing a spell on my bum," he muttered. Scorpius laughed, resting his chin against Albus’s chest. 

"It feels quite nice, actually. So I've been told." He stroked up Albus’s thigh, let his hand rest at the waistband of his jeans. "Tingly."

"Tingly?" Albus made another face, running one hand through Scorpius’s slightly tousled hair and making it good and messy. "Like pins and needles? Or lemonade?"

"I don’t know," Scorpius laughed. "They didn't mention fizzy, so I’d hazard it’s just." He shrugged again. "A little bit tingly. Anyway." He shifted a little bit nervously. "Would you rather do it, um, the Muggle way?"

"Noo," Albus drew out the word, gauging from Scorpius’s tone what _that_ would involve. "No, I will go for an arse full of lemonadey pins and needles over"—he waved a hand—"whatever that involves any day." 

They both fell silent, each musing on what they were about to do, and the practicalities involved with it. After a moment Albus wrinkled his nose, regarding Scorpius intently. "This is not a sexy conversation, is it?"

Scorpius laughed, a sharp and relieved bark of a sound. "Nah, guess not." He stood up, rolling his shoulders and cracking the joints in his elbows. 

Albus sighed. "Sorry." He twisted his mouth as he thought. "I’ll try and work on that."

"What?" Scorpius laughed again, this time in surprise. "No, what, this isn’t unsexy because of you!" He pulled Albus closer to him, fingers around his wrist. "It’s unsexy because, like, I dunno. Some parts of sex just are." He smiled. "Like the clean up, and getting a cramp, and like. Too much sweat." 

"Gross." 

"Yep." Scorpius's grin widened. "Still fun, though." 

Albus sighed, but not unhappily. He waved a hand, hoping to wave away his nervous apprehension, too. "Whatever, let’s just have a shower."

"Okay." Scorpius nodded, moving to sit back down, when Albus pulled his arm. 

"No, _let’s_ have a shower," he repeated, injecting more confidence in his voice than he felt. _Fake it 'til you make it_ , as James always told him. He doubted James meant that advice to count towards Albus’s trepidation regarding his sexual experiences, but then again knowing his brother, it was equally as likely that he did mean exactly that. 

Scorpius blinked but put up no fight as he let Albus drag him towards the bathroom. "Will we both fit in there?" he asked curiously. 

"Sure." Albus shrugged. He actually had no idea. "I mean, probably? The bed's massive, so I bet they have―woah," he stopped in the doorway, looking at the magnificently opulent bathroom ensuite. 

"Fucking hell," Scorpius said over his shoulder. 

Albus stepped into the room, pulling his t-shirt over his head. He dropped it onto the smooth white-tiled floor, then undid his jeans too. He turned, the sound of his belt echoing slightly against the high roof as it clanked. He gestured over his shoulder to the large shower. 

"You coming?" he said in a way he hoped was maybe a little bit sexy. 

"Shit, yes." Scorpius’s t-shirt hit the floor, landing on top of Albus’s as he stepped into the bathroom. He smiled as he closed the door behind him.

*

They took longer in the shower than Albus had expected, and not just because Scorpius kept excitedly smelling all of the different body washes, shampoos and soaps. Although, he absolutely _did_ do that, pouring out dollops into his palms and inhaling the scents, letting Albus do the same as they took turns washing each other, running their hands over skin and into hair.

It was incredibly nice, Albus quickly realised, once he got over the self-consciousness of being in the shower with someone. He’d never done that before, at least not naked; he’d shared a shower with Scorpius, after they’d been swimming and once while completely pissed, but that was before they’d started seeing each other, when Albus was only stealing hidden glances and hadn’t realised Scorpius was doing the same. And either way, they had both _definitely_ not been naked at the time. 

The water was warm as it ran over his body, down his tired shoulders and to his legs, and he tilted his head back in it, letting his hands slide down Scorpius’s sides. He was slim, slender, and Albus let his hands trail lower to the faint jut of Scorpius’s hips. His hands were slick with soap, his hair running into his eyes as the water pushed it down his forehead and he kissed Scorpius again, wondering if maybe they should just get off in here instead of worrying about doing that other thing. Scorpius kissed him back, the water sliding over their lips, making it a little bit hard to coordinate, but Albus felt good, loose and relaxed under the warm shower spray. He sighed into the kiss, pushing his wet hair away from his closed eyes as Scorpius let his own hands wander lower, his thickening cock pressing up against Albus’s burgeoning erection. 

"Oh," Albus breathed against Scorpius’s lips, Scorpius’s hands moving to cup his arse. They were the same height, more or less, and both on the taller side of things. Luckily, the shower was enormous, with more than enough room to manoeuvre, and Albus internally thanked Scorpius for booking such an expensive and large suite as Scorpius pressed him up against the cold shower wall. 

"Mmm," Scorpius mumbled, kissing over Albus’s jaw. "Was that too― _oh_."

Albus rolled his hips again, pressing his cock against Scorpius’s and sighing at the water-slick slide of it. Scorpius clenched his hands, kneading Albus’s arse, and Albus gasped. They had done this before, been naked and ground against each other until they’d both come hard and sticky against each other’s stomachs. This felt different somehow, perhaps because of the fact that they didn’t have to be quick, or quiet, for fear of someone walking in. Or perhaps it was just the way Scorpius’s fingers were moving closer to the cleft of Albus’s arse, between his cheeks, tentative but _there_ all the same. 

Albus arched his neck, letting Scorpius kiss down his throat as he sighed shakily into the warm and misty shower air. Albus pressed his cock against Scorpius harder, felt him gasp against his skin. Both of them were hard now, rocking against each other in a slowly building rhythm. Albus liked doing this, knew this could make them both come, and the warmth from the water, the sounds they were making echoing off the tiles, were only making him harder. He groaned as Scorpius tightened his hands again, pulling his arse cheeks apart slightly, one finger slipping between them. The jolt of pleasure wasn’t sharp, but it was surprising, and Albus’s eyes flew open. 

"Fuck," he gasped. 

"Sorry," Scorpius pulled away, pulling his hand away and sweeping his wet hair away from his face. "Too soon? We can not do that."

"No, that's"—Albus swallowed, taking a steadying breath—"that’s fine." 

Scorpius smiled at him, rubbing his hands over his hip, and Albus almost wished he would return it to where it had been. 

"Should we get out? Unless." Albus inhaled, trying to still his heaving chest, the excitement building. "We can't do it in here, can we?" he asked, vaguely optimistic. Scorpius blinked at him, confused, before his eyes widened in understanding. 

"Oh, uh, no. Bed." He licked his lips, excited and nervous. "Bed would be easier."

"‘Kay," Albus rolled his hips one last time before Scorpius pulled back, shutting off the tap. 

"After you," he said, waving towards the glass shower door, and Albus smiled, wobblier than he’d intended as he stepped out and grabbed a soft, white towel. 

He dried himself off with quick perfunctory movements, the towel catching more than once on his erection as Scorpius did the same next to him. 

Getting from bathroom to bed was more than a little bit awkward. Albus padded along the carpeted floor, barefoot and naked, towel slung low across his hips and erection bobbing stupidly in front of him. He was almost relieved, in a way, that he was only half-hard by the time he reached the bed, nerves having softened his cock somewhat. Well, relieved was possibly not the word, but still; it made walking slightly less of a ridiculous sight. 

Stepping up behind him, Scorpius wrapped his arms around his waist, his own half-mast erection pressing against Albus’s towel-clad arse as they stood at the foot of the enormous bed.

"You know, we could watch a movie instead," Scorpius said, reading Albus’s silence correctly as the nervous pause it was. "There’s a Muggle television in here. I hear that’s also quite a romantic thing to do." He rested his chin on Albus’s shoulder, inhaling deeply as his hair dripped scant drops onto Albus’s neck, his chest. "Or we could just order fancy room service and get drunk on champagne. Bet they have the real stuff here, too. "

Scorpius ran his hands over Albus’s stomach in soothing circular motions. Albus felt oddly comforted by it. He leant his head back against Scorpius’s shoulder, smiling at the bed frame. Really, it was stupid to be so nervous. So what if he hadn't done this before? That wasn’t a good reason _not_ to do it, like, ever. Besides, if the worst case did happen and it was a disaster, they could just order room service and eat it in the bath, and then pretend it never happened. His smile widened. 

"Let’s have champagne afterwards," Albus decided, quickly lurching forward and kneeing his way onto the bed. He pulled off his towel, smiling over his shoulder as he threw it at Scorpius. 

Scorpius blinked, caught off guard as the towel hit him in the chest, before he smiled, relieved. He laughed once. "Okay. Um. Well, on your stomach is good then," he said, as Albus widened his eyes. "Or we can do on your back, if you―"

"Stomach it is," Albus declared, crawling into the centre of the bed to quash his sense of pending doom. He was deeply glad that the lights were dimmed so he could tell himself he didn’t look as fucking ridiculous as he felt, crawling on hands and knees and arse-bloody-naked on a bed the size of a small swimming pool. 

"You look nice," Scorpius said softly, tucking his hair behind his ears.

Albus rolled his eyes, then threw Scorpius a wobbly smile. "Err, thanks, but I actually look like a nudist who’s dropped their contact lens," he joked. 

"No." Scorpius crawled up onto the bed. "Well, actually a bit, yeah, but still." He sat on his heels behind Albus, "You look nice. Got a great bum." He pinched it gently. Albus let out a truly embarrassing honk of a laugh. 

"Well, glad you like it." Albus flexed his hands against the bed covers. "'Cos you're about to get a face full of it." 

"Yep," replied Scorpius, refusing to play Albus's mood killing game. "Lucky me." Scorpius placed a hand on each of Albus's bum cheeks. Albus valiantly tried to stay still and not wiggle away out of embarrassment. 

Before Albus could think of more awkward and unnecessary commentary, scorpius whispered a spell to dim the lights. The room slipped into muted tones, not too dark to see but just dark enough to allow Albus a little modesty. He sighed gratefully, toes scrunching against the blankets in anticipation. 

"Okay," Scorpius whispered. "Count me down." 

"What?" Albus frowned, looking over his shoulder. 

"To the spell," replied Scorpius, as if it was obvious. 

"What, three two one, blastoff?" 

"No!" Scorpius giggled, gently slapping Albus on the bum cheek. "Or, like. Actually yes, but skip the last bit." A pause. "Unless you're secretly a Blast-Ended Skrewt?" 

Albus snorted a surprised laugh, that quickly gave way into full-blown laughter, and then dissolved into proper hysterical giggles. "Fucking _hell_ Scorp!" he gasped, slipping down onto his elbows and then his tummy, smothering his laughter into the duvet. He let his legs flop out, too. 

"Well, you said it." Scorpius's voice was thick with amusement, his fingers drumming on Albus's bum. He inched forward on his knees, spreading Albus's legs as he nestled between them. "Okay, so the countdown, yeah? And I'll just do it?" 

Albus wiped one eye, still laughing, and nodded. It was all ridiculous at this point, and he'd clearly lost the plot. "Three, two"—he braced himself, face scrunched up against the duvet—"one."

Scorpius muttered the spell and another wave of giggles burst out of Albus as a tingling sensation radiated out from his arsehole. He wriggled against the duvet, his arse clenching and twitching at the most bizarre feeling his arse had ever experienced. 

"Alright?" Scorpius asked somewhat hesitantly, probably concerned at this point that the impending rimming had somehow managed to send Albus round the bend.

Albus attempted to get himself back under control, though with his arse now squeaky-clean it was hard not to think about what they were about to do. Scorpius was going to put his _mouth_ on Albus arse, and Albus wasn't sure if the squirmy feeling in his stomach was more anticipation or panic. 

"Yes?" he replied, his voice all high-pitched. He cleared his throat, feeling increasingly awkward about lying face down naked on the bed while Scorpius loomed somewhere behind him, presumably staring at his arse. "Err, now what?"

Did Scorpius just bend down and stick his tongue up Albus's bum? What was the protocol here? Was Albus supposed to do anything besides lie there like a limp fish while Scorpius did all the work? Behind him, Scorpius hummed and shifted, and Albus held his breath, expecting to feel Scorpius's tongue at any moment like some kind of arse-seeking missile.

"Now"—Scorpius's breath was hot against Albus's arse cheeks as he grabbed hold of Albus's hips—"we make out a bunch."

Scorpius flipped Albus over onto his back with a surprising show of strength that had the butterflies that had apparently taken up permanent residence in Albus's stomach fluttering. Albus blinked up at him, feeling a bit dazed as he took in Scorpius's pleased and mischievous smile. 

"Make out?" Albus said somewhat stupidly, still thrown by the sudden change of plans and the brilliance of Scorpius's smile.

"Yeah," replied Scorpius slowly, pressing a kiss against the side of Albus's head, then his cheek, then the corner of his mouth. "It's this thing where we press our mouths together over and over again." He brushed his lips against Albus's teasingly, eyes sparkling with humour.

"Ugh, you're so—" Albus didn't actually have a word for what Scorpius was so he leaned up and kissed him instead. _This_ they'd done before, enough so that Albus felt confident he wouldn't make a complete tit of himself but not so much as to send the butterflies packing. Their fluttering was more of the enthusiastic encouragement variety as Albus pulled Scorpius down on top of him and slid his hands down the bare contours of his back. Naked kissing was the _best_ , and he was too caught up in the feeling of Scorpius's warm, smooth skin and the insistent press of his erection sliding along Albus's hipbone to worry about looking foolish. With the lights all dim, and in the hush quiet of their fancy Parisian hotel room, it was like they were in their own little world, just Scorpius, Albus, and the kaleidoscope of butterflies in Albus's stomach.

By the time Scorpius pulled away from Albus's mouth and began to kiss his throat, Albus's lips felt swollen and puffy, and his body was so relaxed and gooey he felt like he'd melted right into the mattress. He ran his hand through Scorpius's hair, his fingers catching slightly on a few strands that were still damp from their shower. He accidentally pulled at a knot. 

"Sorry," he muttered when Scorpius winced, but Scorpius just shrugged and grinned up at him before scraping his teeth against Albus's nipple in retaliation. Except apparently Albus _really_ liked having teeth scraping his nipple, so the joke was on Scorpius. Albus shivered and let out a little moan, which made Scorpius look far too smug, so maybe that one was a draw, after all.

Scorpius's mouth kept moving lower, down Albus's narrow chest, over the gentle swell of Albus's tummy. Albus twitched and let out another breathless laugh as Scorpius briefly stuck his tongue in Albus's belly button before kissing down Albus's treasure trail. His cock was fully hard again, brought back to life by Scorpius's talented mouth sliding over Albus's skin. He wondered if Scorpius had changed his mind and was just going to suck Albus off instead. They hadn’t done that a whole load but Scorpius was brilliant at it, and Albus's cock was quite on board with that possibility, but Albus's butterflies seemed to droop somewhat with disappointment. His nervous anxiety wasn't quite so strong as to entirely override his desire to feel Scorpius's mouth on every inch of him. He opened his mouth with zero idea of what he would actually say, but then Scorpius looked up at him from between Albus's legs, his eyes dark between clumps of blond fringe, and Albus's breath caught. 

Scorpius pressed a kiss to Albus's hip bone and then against the side of Albus's cock, staring as he did. Albus wasn't sure he'd ever seen anything so hot. 

"Turn over?" Scorpius asked, voice lilting upwards with a hint of uncertainty.

"Okie dokie," Albus blurted, stupid as always and blushing as he rolled back over onto his stomach. He reached impulsively for a pillow and pulled it under his face, the cool cotton soothing against his burning face. 

"Good idea," Scorpius said, Summoning another pillow and pressing it gently against Albus’s side. "Um, and maybe another one…" 

The butterflies seemed to be throwing some kind of party in Albus's stomach as he stuffed the pillow underneath himself, feeling exposed and more than a little bit silly. Scorpius's hands settled on his waist before sliding down over the swell of his arse, his touch gentle, like Albus was one of his Abraxans that needed soothing. Albus relaxed under the calming motions of Scorpius's hands.

"Tell me if I do it, um"—Scorpius cleared his throat—"if it doesn’t feel nice." 

Albus nodded into the pillow, smoosh-mouthed against the cotton and still blushing furiously as he grabbed fistfuls of the fluffy duvet. He felt like he should be bracing himself for some kind of impact, but when it came, the sensation was feather-light. Scorpius's lips ghosted across the curve of his bum, and a part of Albus wanted to twitch and wriggle under the ticklish sensation, but he was too breathless with anticipation as Scorpius's mouth moved slowly towards the crease of Albus's arse. Those long fingers Albus had obsessed over for years joined in, sliding over Albus's skin before gently gripping Albus's arse cheeks and tugging, just enough to bare Albus entirely. Scorpius was right _there_ , inches from Albus's arsehole, staring at it, about to—to put his _mouthi_ on it, and Albus— 

Albus let out a shocked sound, something between a moan and a squeak and deeply fucking embarassing, as Scorpius licked him without so much as a by-your-leave. It felt a bit weird, softer and hotter and _wetter_ than Albus had been expecting. The sensation was so new and unexpected, without any kind of frame of reference, that Albus wasn't entirely certain how to categorise it, but he didn't have long to think on it before Scorpius was back. Albus hadn't ever really thought about how strong and… _dexterous_ a tongue could be, but he was thinking about it now as Scorpius's tongue flicked teasingly at his rim. Apparently Scorpius wasn't having as much difficulty determining his feelings on the matter, his licks growing less tentative as he began to explore the contours of Albus's arsehole. Which made since, given he’d done this before, and also bloody hell. It was just… a lot to take in. Metaphorically, as it were; a tongue wasn’t actually much to take in, all things considered, Albus thought rather hysterically. 

Not for the first time in his life, Albus wished he could turn his brain off. Oh well. Que sera, and all that rot. 

He shuddered, all but collapsing against the pillows as his entire body flooded with pleasure. It wasn't like he was entirely unaware that his arse was a bit sensitive, but _Merlin_ he'd never felt anything like this before. It didn't help matters that Scorpius was clearly and unabashedly enjoying himself, feasting on Albus like one of those _pain au chocolate_ pastries from earlier. It was a bit obscene, really, the slick slurping sounds, the way Scorpius was moaning against Albus's arse, pressing his face hard into him, like he couldn't get his mouth close enough. It made Albus's cheeks hot and his dick twitch, the way Scorpius shamelessly threw himself into sex, how unrestrained he was with the things he liked. It made Albus feel less anxious and self-conscious, because despite being a Slytherin, Scorpius couldn't lie for shit, which meant he was genuinely enjoying sticking his tongue up Albus's bum. And _that_ meant there was no reason at all for Albus not to give in to the pleasure crashing over him.

Sex was a bit weird, and messy, and bloody bizarre, but it was also amazing and fun, especially when it was with Scorpius.

Albus began to rock his hips, grinding his erection against the fluffy pillow beneath him for some friction before pressing more insistently against Scorpius's mouth in a silent plea for more. Scorpius hummed with obvious pleasure, his hands squeezing Albus's bum as he began to properly work Albus over. Albus could feel the soft, flexible tip of Scorpius's tongue tracing Albus's rim before reaching the centre of him and gently easing inside, and Albus's cock _throbbed_ , making a mess as he leaked precome all over the pillowcase wedged beneath him. They’d probably better leave housekeeping a big tip, Albus thought giddily. 

" _Oh_ ," he gasped, unexpectedly overwhelmed by a bolt of pleasure that shot right from his arse, to his dick, and even to the backs of his knees. He hadn't known it would feel like this, that it would feel so _good_. He couldn't even think of the act without his face turning into a tomato, but the reality of it, of Scorpius's tongue on him, his hands gripping Albus's arse as he licked him over and over… It wasn't quite enough to get him off on its own, but with the perfect amount of friction the pillow was providing, Albus realised he was shockingly close to coming.

Scorpius eased back, and Albus whined— _whined_ —at the loss of that clever tongue. Scorpius panted against his right arse cheek. 

"Is it—are you—?"

" _Yeah_ ," Albus breathed, looking over his shoulder at Scorpius. Another bolt of lust went through him as he took in Scorpius's mussed hair and flushed cheeks, his eyes wide and glassy and all pupil as he licked his damp lips. "Oh my god, Scorpius, it's…"

Scorpius grinned, and with his current debauched appearance it was nothing short of filthy. "Yeah?" A damp thumb came to rub against Albus's rim, and Albus shivered. "You like it then?"

Albus nodded, eagerly, too bloody turned on and desperate to come to be embarrassed by just how much he was enjoying himself, and how keenly he wanted Scorpius to get back to it. "I'm close," he murmured, grinding down against the pillow as Scorpius pressed the tip of his thumb just inside Albus's arsehole. For the briefest of moments Albus arched into it, wanting Scorpius to ease those beautiful fingers inside of him, and then maybe something else. Albus wanted it, felt like he _always_ wanted it, but he also knew he was too far gone to make those desires reality, not tonight.

So instead he cleared his throat and whispered, "Will you…"

And Scorpius, who was the best boyfriend and knew Albus so well, didn't even make him finish the mortifying sentence. Just lowered his head back down and licked over Albus's rim again with all of the enthusiasm of Niffler hunting gold. Well, if the gold was up Albus's arse anyway.

Albus panted, grabbed two great big fistfuls of the duvet, and screwed his eyes shut as he felt his orgasm start to crest. He was proper rocking his hips now, grinding his dick down against the pillow and humping eagerly back against Scorpius's mouth in a way that would make him expire from embarrassment later but right now just felt really, really good. He was close, so bloody close he could feel it fizzing down his spine and prickling over the hairs on his thighs, and then Scorpius pressed his whole mouth against Albus's rim and kind of _sucked_ and it was so filthy and amazing that Albus came right then and there.

He collapsed in a boneless flop against the pillows, overwhelmed and shuddering with each little aftershock. Behind him, Scorpius had detached himself from Albus's arsehole, his face leaning against one of Albus's bum cheeks as he panted heavily. Judging from the jerking motions he was getting himself off, and Albus wished he had the energy to turn around and look, because watching Scorpius come was one of his favourite things. For now he'd have to settle for just hearing it, because not even an _Imperio_ would be strong enough to get Albus to move right now with his bones still jelly. Lucky for Albus, Scorpius was quite vocal, allowing Albus to perfectly picture his enjoyment as he gave a long, low moan, apparently finding his own climax.

They lay there together for what felt like a small eternity, until their breathing had somewhat slowed, and Albus's body felt less floppy.

"Wanna order room service in the morning for breakfast?" Scorpius asked into the silence, as if nothing monumental had just happened. Like sticking his tongue up Albus's bum was just a normal everyday activity. The butterflies in Albus's stomach seemed to like that possibility _very_ much.

Albus rolled into his back, sticky and warm and still a little bit dazed. 

"Ye―yeah," he croaked, flushing as he looked at Scorpius’s lips. "Breakfast in bed sounds good."

Scorpius gave him an amused smile. "I didn't say anything about bed."

Albus snorted. "Oh, piss off. As if I can think of anything else right now." He gestured down at his naked body, his groin covered in bits of drying come. His arse still felt damp and relaxed, and the butterflies' wings gave a hopeful little tremor about what the rest of the night, or the morning, might bring.

Scorpius's mind seemed to be on a similarly filthy wavelength as his gaze swept over Albus's dishevelled form. He leaned over Albus and groped around on the nightstand, crowing triumphantly and flashing Albus a satisfied smile when he found his wand.

"Cleaning Charm?" 

"Ugh, if you must," Albus replied. Scorpius knew he wasn't a fan of the charm on his delicate bits, but he was even less keen for either of them to leave the bed for a wet cloth. He grumbled a bit as the charm scraped over his skin, and Scorpius gave him a commiserationg smile before leaning down and pressing his lips to Albus's soft dick, kissing it better. Albus's entire body grew warm, his chest full of love and affection, and he tugged Scorpius up next to him on the bed, wrapping his arms around him and giving him a proper kiss.

"It was good, then?" Scorpius mumbled against Albus's lips, seemingly torn between continuing to kiss Albus and wanting to make double extra sure Albus had enjoyed himself, because apparently his coming like an extra-strength _Aguamenti_ wasn't enough proof.

"Yeah, I liked it," Albus replied. He gave Scorpius his best coy smile, feeling bold. "Though you might, err, need to do it again sometime. Just to make sure." It was such a fucking _line_. Albus would have cringed, but he was happy and warm and soppy. He was just going to roll with it, for once, and not overthink. For like, at least a minute. 

Scorpius grinned at him, radiant and ridiculous. "Alright," he breathed. "I can definitely do that."

*

**Author's Note:**

> This work is part of HP Next Gen Fest 2020. The creator will be revealed at the end of November.


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